𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

33 || The Chase

Brent Faiyaz - All Mine

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Celina

Never have I ever orgasmed at the hands of a man.

As of five minutes ago, that's turned into a lie.

Don't get me wrong, I've had my fair share of sexual encounters.

I lost my virginity to a random in an attempt to spite Silvio and it hurt too much to be enjoyable. I'd faked it with Seb - every time, and avoided it with every other man I'd entertained.

Sex was never in my benefit, which is why I didn't have it often.

But now, as I watch strong hands, so pale, his blue veins trail prominently up to fingers so long and thick I'd only needed one of them to get off on, I wonder what it'd feel like to be fucked by Adrik Kozlov.

Would he be brutal? Meticulous? Boring?

I don't know. All I know is that if what he'd just managed to do was anything to go off of, boring would be the last thing on my mind.

I watch him from where I stand, I'm still pushed up against the bookshelf, and can't find the will to hold up my trembling legs much less move.

I can't help but stare at him, while, for once, I have nothing to say. My last spoken words had been his name, escaped in a desperate cry from my lips, at his request.

He hadn't said anything after, he simply stood against me, his body covering most my naked one from view as I came so hard I deliberated dropping to my knees and showing him that I could in fact be grateful.

Extremely grateful.

But instead, a stillness had suffocated the surrounding air. I couldn't move, speak or even breath as he stared at me with an intensity that pit something akin to fear in my stomach.

The kind that I got off on.

He'd touched my lips, smeared his finger across my bottom one, before giving it a pinch.

I stared back at him, dragged my tongue across what he'd smeared on my bottom lip and then reached for his belt.

He pulled away without another glance in my direction.

Adrik Kozlov who up until that point was far too close to get a good look at me- all of me, didn't even peek at my naked body. Instead, he walked away from me, to his desk, - kicking my discarded clothes across the floor towards me in the process- and occupied his attention on using a wet wipe to clean his hands like a man who had nothing better to do than get dirt and grime off his hands.

I'd eventually gotten the hint, and through the sudden embarrassment, found my bearings enough to fix my bra, ditch the torn underwear by my feet and slip on my poor excuse of a skirt while he walked to the fireplace across the room and light a fire like I wasn't there.

I didn't give a fuck if it hurt to bend over and slip on my skirt. I'd be dammed if I stood here, naked, while he still had yet to do so much as loosen his fucking tie.

It was at that moment that I realized, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

I'm seconds from shooting myself in the foot to distract from the pain in my abdomen when I reach over to grab the shirt he'd kicked by my feet.